


Twelve Minutes

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Kissing, M/M, Magic, Modern Royalty, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-10 20:53:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: If there's any magic left in this world, and Arthur's come to firmly believe that there is, then he's pretty sure it feels like this: the world outside, cold and Christmas-quiet, poised on the edge of the new year, and the world inside, dizzy-spinning and warm, Merlin's mouth against his own, their kisses breathless and hopeful.





	Twelve Minutes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kestrel_Sparhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrel_Sparhawk/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Kestrel Sparhawk! I hope you enjoy this fic and that you have the merriest and brightest of holiday seasons. <3
> 
> Thank you to the mods for running this lovely fest!

"Are you certain?" Arthur asks, avoiding the way Merlin's eyes try to seek out his own and catch his gaze. 

Which, well, Arthur supposes he'd be more successful if Merlin weren't standing right in front him, doing up in his necktie, and glancing up at Arthur with a thoughtful smile on his face. His eyelashes are a soft, dark brush against his pale skin when he glances back down, and Arthur almost regrets how much easier it is to look at him this way, without having to look at the bright gold-flecked blue of his eyes. 

No, not _easier_ , per se. But at least this way Arthur's breath doesn't catch uneven and sharp in his chest, and he doesn't feel longing well up there, too, and make him want to slide his hands up Merlin's chest and kiss him long, sweet, and breathless. 

"It's a bit too late to change my mind now, isn't it? You've got about..." He tries to angle his wrist to check his watch, then stops when doing so interferes with the knot he's doing up on Arthur's necktie. 

"Fifteen--no, more like twelve minutes. You have twelve minutes to decide you'd rather sneak out the back stairs of Sandringham House and go to your Mum's house for Christmas Eve..." 

"That would be inconvenient, seeing as my Mum is _here_. Arthur, stay still." Merlin gives Arthur a nudge with one hand and then pulls his tie into a neat Trinity knot. "There. What are you worried about?" 

"Nothing," Arthur says. He glances at his watch again, and then _tsk_ s when Merlin turns him to look in the mirror. "It looks fine, it always looks fine, and you always gloat about how you're that much better at tying that knot than I am." 

"I'm not gloating." Half a step behind him, Merlin peers over Arthur's shoulder to look at the two of them in the mirror. He's dressed in muted blues and greys, and his hair looks soft and rumpled, just enough to remind Arthur of how soft his eyes had looked early that morning, how warm his fingers had been against Arthur's bare skin. "Well, maybe a bit. You do look very handsome, though, thanks to me," he adds, and turns to press a kiss to Arthur's ear. 

Arthur rolls his eyes, but pulls Merlin in closer to him anyway, and nods his approval when Merlin slips an arm around his waist. They have ten minutes now, the last ten minutes when it'll just be the two of them, and the tangle of memories and moments between them. The last time they'll stand here, half anonymous, their private lives still private, those moments and memories not splayed across a photoshoot or interview. 

Arthur draws in a breath and turns to Merlin. "Are you _certain_ , though? Merlin?" 

"Arthur," Merlin says, fond and exasperated all at once, "I think I've been certain since we were at uni. I did try to marry you then." 

"You were very drunk and were wearing ridiculous hipster clothes, so I'm glad I avoided that one." Arthur reaches up to brush Merlin's fringe from his eyes, and this time doesn't avoid Merlin's gaze. "I'd forgotten about that..." 

"Not well enough, apparently. What if you'd said yes, though? What if we'd run off and got married after only having known each other for three months?" Merlin leans in to touch his forehead to Arthur's, then brushes his nose over Arthur's and grins. "It was Christmas time then, too, and I was certain then, like I am now." 

Arthur feels a little dizzy at the thought, that three months into their relationship, three months of rushed kisses and fumbling mornings together under sleep-mussed blankets, Merlin would've been ready to kiss him in front of all Britain. They were both nineteen and ridiculous then, drunk on the headiness of being together, of having to hide so many of their moments from the press, from their friends, even. 

More than ten years have passed since then, and yet there's still a kind of headiness about being able to wake up next to Merlin, to feel the brush of his lips against Arthur's shoulder as he reaches over Arthur to shut off the alarm clock. He still kisses Arthur in that way that makes Arthur forget the world outside and all the troubles that come with it; he still slides his hands over Arthur's body, kisses down the column of his throat or nuzzles, ticklish and soft, against his stomach so that he has Arthur arching up into his touch, desperate and grateful. 

"Six minutes," Arthur says, then looks back at Merlin when he tugs Arthur's sleeve over the face of his watch. "I just want--" 

"I know. _You're_ being ridiculous, but I know." Merlin slides his arms around Arthur's shoulder and kisses him soft and quick on the lips. "What should we spend our last five minutes doing before we get officially engaged?" 

Arthur makes a thoughtful sound, then catches that faint flicker of gold in Merlin's eyes, and finds himself leaning in to kiss Merlin, and then kiss him again, slower and more deeply, before he has a chance to make any other decision. 

If there's any magic left in this world, and Arthur's come to firmly believe that there is, then he's pretty sure it feels like this: the world outside, cold and Christmas-quiet, poised on the edge of the new year, and the world inside, dizzy-spinning and warm, Merlin's mouth against his own, their kisses breathless and hopeful. 

"Two minutes," Merlin murmurs against Arthur's mouth. 

"Two minutes," Arthur says, smiles, and then, "I love you." 

"God, _Arthur_. I love you, I love you, and I'm going to marry you and live in that big absurd house with you, and have my picture taken three dozen times over just so I can show you off." 

Arthur's not sure if he wants to laugh or kiss Merlin once more, so he ends up doing both, and rather poorly at that, but smiles into the smaller, softer kisses he gives Merlin afterwards. "Merry Christmas," he says against Merlin's lips. 

"Merry Christmas... thirty seconds?" Merlin asks. 

"Thirty seconds..." Arthur pulls Merlin into a hug warm enough to last the night.


End file.
